From Birth Till Death
by oooOutisooo
Summary: This is a story that I've had bouncing around in my head for a while based off the premise of exploring the true nature of countries, or, at least, their personifications. It is based off of questions like; Just what is a country? Why could Rome return to speak with the living, but not the Holy Roman Empire? What is the real relationship between a country and it's "boss"? Etc.


**This is a oneshot, for now, and will probably continue to be so until after I'm done with Of Angels and Demons, but I do eventually intend to expand it to encompass a large number of countries, from their earliest memories, to their final ones. There's even going to be plot, believe it or not. I **_**should**_** warn you, though, that the whole concept behind this story includes guaranteed character death.**

Prologue: Holy Rome

Countries are born of ideas.

Ideas are born of humans.

It is for this reason, and this reason alone, that we must obey our citizens, and are, therefore, subjects of our people. We are physically, and emotionally, stronger, live longer, and are capable of more than they are, but _they_ hold the reins. It has made me wonder, not infrequently, who is stronger; those with power, who do not take it of their own accord, or those who grant power, but do not, or can not, take it for themselves completely. In our case, as countries, we still have our own personalities, our own separate wills, but, in most cases, our bosses have final say. Sometimes, if we must do something truly horrendous, we will even alter our very thoughts and beliefs in an effort to cope, such is the absolute power our people have over us.

But, in return, we live. We exist. And we are strengthened.

Patriotism, the sense of cultural identity, and traditions are our lifeblood. Without every single one of them, we weaken. As more of these aspects fade, so do we.

When France, under the rule of Napoleon, brought what he still believes to have been an end to my existence, I had already been fading for many years. None of them ever knew, not even Italy, though I suspect Austria may have guessed, but I had been neglected, and practically existed in name alone. Had France _not_ attacked me, had I _not_ chosen to accept my imminent death, and held on to existence tightly, I suspect I may have ended up like the Ancients. Present, but not.

Washed out.

But even at the very end, I never wanted that. In all honesty, I welcomed the final blow.

However, it was not the end.

I continued on as a vague idea, a notion of history, floating, formless, around my old territories, anguished.

To me, it was much worse than what had happened to the ancients.

If I had continued in that way, I'm sure I would have eventually gathered enough form to manifest again, much in the way that Rome had, though he had the benefit of being more prevalent in written history, and the heart of his strength safe in Rome, Italy. And even he, after Germania had cut him down at a vulnerable time, disappeared completely for several years. And when he did come back, it was without even a shadow of his former strength.

I don't know how long I stayed that way, wandering and invisible, before I saw him.

An infant country, no more than an idea of an idea, but a promising one, with nearly as little form as I.

The sight of him made me think that, maybe, I _could_ live again.

So I gathered myself, as much as I could, and lent my spirit to the youngling. It wouldn't be exactly like a second life. Most of what made me _me_ would lie dormant, or fade away completely. But I wouldn't be trapped the way I had been, as dead as I could possibly be, but still aware, still hurting, still lonely, and unable to reach out.

In many ways, the peace it would lend me would be like a true death.

But I would also live, in that my spirit would breath, eyes see, and this young country, whoever he ended up being, would, additionally, feel certain basic instincts, such as the desire to, like Rome, grow powerful, survive, and live life to the fullest, and other gut feelings the way that I would. At least, to some extent.

Maybe it would help him avoid making my mistakes.


End file.
